Seattle Marathon Race Report

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42.2 Km, 4:18:47, Partly Cloudy, 6°C, 12 km wind off Lake Washington

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Well, it's official, I've run a marathon 3 times now.

I finished at 4 hrs, 18 minutes and 47 seconds ( the official clock says 4:19:27, but that is because it took me 40 seconds just to cross the Start line). That is a Personal Best (PB) for me and so much better than my last marathon in Red Deer.

I felt really strong the whole way. I wasn't at all "tired" aerobically. What gave out on me was my legs; I developed severe leg cramps 5 miles before the end of the marathon. The Seattle course has some killer hills at 19 miles. Soon after I hit the hills, my legs cramped up so much I had to stop and massage them. It got so bad in one place that I asked a volunteer to support me while I leaned on him and stretched. It was very painful. But I managed to keep going for the last 5 miles.

The weather for the marathon was really good for Seattle at this time of year. About 6°C, Partly cloudy although, there was a fairly strong wind off of Lake Washington.

One of my traveling partners was able to run roughly at my pace, so we decided to run together. It certainly is nice to have someone to run with. BonBon & I got off to a screaming start and by mile 4 had accumulated 4 minutes ahead of our target pace. We slowed down and were able to keep on pace for the next 11 miles. Then, around mile 15, we started to slip up a bit. When we reached the hills, I left BBS behind and thought I wouldn't see her until the end of the race.

To her great delight and my surprise, she caught up to me in the middle of the hilly section! We ran together for a while, but my cramps kept slowing me down and she left me behind. So she actually beat me!

That's OK, BBS, You certainly are a stronger runner than I am and if I didn't have those terrible cramps, we both would have finished together and had an awesome finish time.

See a drunkard in the rain

I found this quote in someone else's journal:

"The weather was an apologetic drunkard who kept spilling rain at inopportune places, and then trying to say how sorry it was for the accident. The weather isn't due to sober up for a couple more days, so I imagine it'll have a substantial backlog of shame to work off once it gains a more or less clear head."

I can certainly picture the drunkard stumbling apologetically about, barely in control of his actions.

Should I aspire to this kind of writing? Should I stick to my own brand of prose?

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Hey, how about another link while we are at it. This one is a marathoner who is also a cartoonist. I guess not all marathon runners are free-loaders like me. Some use their talents to do people some good.

It is a pity that Steve didn't finish documenting his marathon training. I noticed that the page was last updated July 2002 and stops at week 11. He is using that same program the I am and I think it is 19 weeks.

Apparently he finished, but the journal didn't.

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Doesn't Steve look a LOT like me?

   
Steve <======> Me
Link to a friend A CIV friend

[edit] CivGeneral link removed for privacy sake. Leave him alone already.

Fishy Philosophy

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32 Km, 2:53:14, Sunny -10°C, 7 km wind

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Yes, you read it right. 32 KM in 2 hrs and 53 minutes. For you Americans, that is 20 miles at 14°F. To the athletes in the crowd, that isn't terribly fast. The rest of you are probably thinking, "What, is he crazy?"

Today was my longest run between now and the Marathon at the end of November. My run started out pretty cold. By the time I was finished, the temperature had risen to almost the freezing point.

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Mo sent me this link she received in her email box. She told me that she found it very PBGish. I am inclined to agree with her. I wasn't too impressed with the layout of the site, so I thought I would look for other sites on fish philosophy. I did some searching and found out where this "fishy" business started out. Who ever thought a fish mongery shop would have a website!

I must admit, the first link says more about the fish philosophy and what it is about than the second link. I guess the gurus at the fish shop were advised to sell their ideas through their business consultants. How very American to sell your grass roots ideas to the highest bidder!

What I have seen of the concepts, however, are great!

Provided That Which I Needed

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6.8 Km, 35:42.2, Snowing -3°C, 9 km wind, wc -9°C

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I forgot to "tithe" today.

Well..., I didn't exactly forget...

OK, I didn't want to tithe today... I was being greedy.

Do you know how the PBGs "punished" me? They gave me more cans. They gave me more bottles. Soon I had so many cans, covered with ice and snow, that I had to stop running. They were so slippery! They were damn cold. I had too many! And I kept finding more.

So I gave in. I "tithed" by placing most of my found containers in a position where some other PBGer would notice them.

How did the PBGs reward me for this generous tithing? They gave me more cans. They gave me more bottles. And before I had more than I could handle, the gave me a bag to put them in.

Mustard Seed Advise

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Double Entry DAY! Woohoo!

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I had coffee with a friend on Thursday. She is worried that her husband doesn't love her. I know that he does, and she is pretty sure that he does, but he doesn't show it to her very well.

*I* know that he loves her because I see it in his actions. He treats her with a great deal of respect. He honors her wishes and lets her be in control because he knows it makes her happier. Her well-being is his highest priority.

While my friend sees some of these ways he expresses his love for her, it isn't what she is looking for. She wants to receive cards. She wants "I love yous". She wants flowers. She wants tender touches (you know the kind that have nothing to do with sex?). She wants, in short, what most women want and what most men really don't understand. She wants a clear sign that she is loved!

Now, my friend is wise enough to know that her great need for external approval stems from her own insecurity. If he tells her he loves her, she will be more able to love herself. If he tells her she is lovely, she will feel slightly more beautiful. If he appreciates her appearance when she makes a special effort, she will take more care and look nicer for him.

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So, for all you guys out there; pay attention. It isn't critical for you to understand your woman. Your route out of the dog house could well be very simple.

Notice the special efforts she makes. Take a sticky note, write a positive comment on it and leave it stuck to the microwave. Bring her an aspirin, without being asked and when she thanks you, tell her "you are worth it". She'll love you more, and in the end, you will find you love her more and show it to her better.

Carpe Diem

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4 Miles, 32:02.11, Overcast 3°C, 5 km wind

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Carpe Diem - Latin for seize the day.

I was high-jacked by friends to go and see a movie tonight; "The Life of David Gale" starring Kevin Spacey, Kate Winslet & Laura Linney. It was a difficult and engaging movie about Capital Punishment and Idealism and was also a bit like a murder mystery. There was also an under-current of the inevitability of death and the courage to face it.

After the movie, my friend gave me a ride home and we got to talking. I told her I was feeling selfish for spending so much money and time on training for and going to the Seattle Marathon.

"Just think of all the homeless people that could be fed if the tens of thousands of runners stayed home," I said. "What about the quality time with my family that I am giving up for this crazy hobby?" It makes running seem so foolish and selfish.

My friend, who has recently experienced more the her share of people close to her dying, gave me this advice.

"You have to follow your passions, because death can come suddenly and you may not have a tomorrow."

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Well there is no doubt in my mind that running marathons is a passion of mine. I am registered in the Seattle marathon at the end of November; the debit has shown up on my Visa. I am going!

Eventually, you can look up finish times for Tim, Rita, Gina, Chris, Alesha, and Bonnie once they are posted.

Running is a powerful drug and most runners go into withdrawal when they don't/can't get a fix.

Ants go working...

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No Run, 30 to 40 km winds

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On the way home from work today I got to thinking about the value of what I am doing with my life. Although the work I accomplish is valuable (they wouldn't pay my wage if there was no value, would they?) It seems to me that it could easily be done by someone else. With billions of workers on the planet, I can hardly have a unique talent.

In what way is what I do special? How do I contribute to a world filled with worker-drones?

An ant hill has millions of virtually identical worker ants. Genetically, they are identical twin sisters. Almost like photocopies. Each ant wanders around ready to do any task that comes to hand (or perhaps pincher?) "There is a stone in the middle of this tunnel, I'll move it down the passage so it is out of the way." "This chamber is vacant, I will make it ready to be used for a brood chamber; ready for the next occupant." If some other ant encounters these tasks before me, they perform them and I simply look for something else to do. The task does not fit the ant, the ant simply finds the task.

As I look down on this ant hill from my godly position, I see only a mass of ants. They scurry here and there, each on their own "assigned task" Their ant hill, 100 times bigger than their diminutive size, is a marvel of their accumulated accomplishments.

So, my ant accomplishments are insignificant when you look at the entire ant world. With my smarter than average ant brain, I could decide that the queen ant would never notice if I went down a side passage and had a little nap.

Just don't tell the rest of the ants, because then nothing would get done and the hill would fall to ruin.

I guess I had better do my work after all.

Supposition d)

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It is just as productive to try to predict the plan as it is to try to push it.

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7.1 Km, 36:44.11, Clear 3°C, 7 km wind

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Yesterday was our (Mo & my) first "Faith Enquiry" session at United Church. None of the people I invited to come, actually came and the people who were there I hadn't expected. So my attempt to predict what would happen as well as my efforts to influence what happened both failed.

A strong indication (well, to me anyway) that I navigate the rapids, not control the river.

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We talked about Baptism, Community, and a bit about our expectations for the class.

I felt a bit disappointed about the class, but came away with a very strong need to figure out why I am attending.

What need will Confirmation fill for me?

I liked what Mo said to be about confirmation: "In action and deed, perhaps you are already Confirmed. The ceremony is simply the celebration of what you have already decided" (paraphrased by me, BTW).

I don't feel like there are any particular things I want to learn about the process of Confirmation. I have been going to church for long enough to know how the service works and what the Creed means. I know there is still lots for me to learn, but I am not in a hurry. Why am I here? What is the hurry? Why now?

It just seems like time. I've tossed in my "Blind" and I have received my cards. Now I wait to place my bets and see what is on the "river".

As the Supposition says, it doesn't pay to predict the Plan.

PBG Club: not mere Doofuses

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6.8 Km, 34:00.2, Clear 1°C, 5 km wind

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Today I met not one, but three members of the PBG Club.

First there is Robert. I met Robert as he was out walking his Grand Daughter's dogs Chance and Shadow. He is a very friendly fellow and quick to laugh. He was also carrying a bag of garbage he had collected along his path and some cans he had picked up. I told him I appreciated his efforts to tidy up the neighborhood.

At one point, Chance (who had a large cone shaped veterinarian collar on) dashed across the field to "greet" a lady and her dog. This turned out to be the second PBG Club member. She also admitted that she liked to have a clean neighborhood to walk through. She also cleaned up while she walked her dog.

After 7 years of waiting to encounter people who appreciated my cleaning up on my runs I didn't expect to meet two people with the same idea on the same day!

Then about 3 minutes later, I met another PBGer. This time it was another runner  with a bag full of pop cans. I had never encountered her out running before and have not seen her since. She didn't seem at all embarrassed about being seen carrying bottles. I offered her some of mine, but she didn't want them.

I met all three of these people on the same run! Within 5 minutes time! They are all concerned with how messy the neighborhood is. They all are lending a hand to make a difference. They are all members of the PBG Club

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I like the idea of the Doofus tribe used by nikkip. I would like to start my own tribe too. Hopefully, my tribe will be more uplifting, but it is also tempting to just make it funny. Perhaps I will still illustrate the funniness of people without actually condemning them or laughing at them.

Yah, that sounds about right.

I intend to have a series of these posts, so look for the words PBG Club: in the title

Word of the Day: Arborescent

Word of the day: arborescent found in a quote on the Darwin Awards site:

"Humans are not the end result
of predictable evolutionary progress,
but rather a fortuitous... twig on the
enormously arborescent bush of life"
- Stephen J. Gould

Native Girl

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15 miles, 2:21:11.0, Clear and cool, no wind

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I met a Native Girl on my run today. As Neal said this evening, "I fell in love" instantly. It was as if I had known Her for a long time. This Native Girl is so much like the Spiritual Girl I am seeing now that it was breath-taking.

Unfortunately, like Neal, I saw her for only a brief glance, in passing on the trail. Actually it was one of the few moments that I was not chatting with Neal in 2 ? Hours of running.

Native Spirituality. Everything has a voice; birds, animals, trees, rocks. And Natives claim that they speak to them all. I imagine that a hunter would "hear" a lot from the twigs and blades of grass that have been displaced by his quarry. Moss on a tree tells him the direction he is facing. A bare rock marks a game trail or the den of an animal.

This seems pretty similar to the way the PBGs communicate with me. A bottle here, a playing card there. Perhaps a Milk jug or Jack, my prophetic rabbit. Symbols. Vocabulary from my conversations. I live in the city and the city "talks" to me.

Ok, not exactly to me, perhaps, but through me.

Spam Report: Sara Freder is a Fake

This is a public service announcement.:

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<Ahem>

To those who choose to believe in strange things; beware. Astrology is not exactly a science and not all practitioners are, <Ahem>, exactly, um, honest.

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If this link goes dead, I'll tell you what it said here: Sara Freder is a fake and a lot of people have been suckered by her.

What surprises me most about these people is that none of them seem to consider that Sara Freder is probably not even a real person. Ever wonder who did all the fancy programming for 'her' site? Who set up all the programming for the accounts for people who are silly enough to register?

You might think *I* am crazy for inventing gods of my own, but I don't ask you to send me money.

Well, I thought about doing just that, but the PBGs slapped my hand and told me to get a life.

[Edit] Judging from the number of hits I get from Google searches for Sara Freder(2 or 3 A DAY!), there are a LOT of people who wonder about Sara Freder's service. If you want to get rich, try becoming a Motley Fool instead. With a small monthly investment you will gradually make that million you are hankering for. Once you are a millionaire, who can help being sexually attractive?

Suggestion 7

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What's important is not what others think of you, but what you think is Right.

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10.2 Km (hills), 49:26.5, Sunny 15°C, light wind

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It's a wonder that I learn these things at all. For days and days (ok, so it has been my entire life, what of it) the PBGs have been pounding me with the same message over and over. It's one of those types of messages that you know in the back of your mind, but you choose to ignore it. How else could I miss something so obvious.

If you are outward focused like me, you are pretty sensitive to other peoples' mood. Sometimes you feel like you can read their minds just by watching how they react. Over a lifetime you get pretty good at it. But often, if you take the trouble to ask them, you usually get a surprise. They invariably are thinking something quite different than what you expect. Sometimes they are busy with their own lives (The NERVE!) and not thinking about you at all.

I was running hills today and saw a woman who was running hills too. She was going slower than me, but seemed to be a pretty good runner and being very relaxed about her exercise. I was thinking, "I wonder what she thinks of me", my efforts, my form, etc. Then it occurred to me that she didn't even seem to recognize that I was there running past her again and again.

The observation that she wasn't even aware of me, caused me to be aware of all the other reminders from the PBGs. They have been trying to get me to not be so obsessed with myself and how I appear to others.

So what if my 'gems of wisdom', my 'unique perspectives' are languishing in obscurity. If I am to write, I should write because I have something worth saying.

If someone finds my viewpoint valuable, that is what the PBGs intended. If not, just as the PBGs predicted, this is a valuable side trip from my path that I have learned from.Yes, MTRF, you told me that weeks ago, but there is hearing and there is understanding.

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Yesterday, there was a bus driver who was acting in a very OOPBGB'ish way. He was being extra friendly, asking trivia questions, wishing riders a 'good day' over the loud speaker...

If you have ridden an ETS bus, you will know that this is extremely un-bus-driverly. I was supposing what other passengers thought of this behavior. "He's crazy", "Is he drunk", "He seems to be in a good mood", "Is he serious?", "Where did this guy escape from?". Those are the thoughts I would worry about, if I was that bus driver.

I don't really know what all those people thought (I was probably close, but I bet there were some people that thought other things). But what was more intriguing to me was what the bus driver thought he was doing. What was his motivation? Why was he acting so strangely? Did he know that it seemed strange (I am betting he did, but that he did it anyway)? What did he hope to accomplish? And, did it work? Were people positively affected by his unusual behavior?

To act with purpose (any purpose) is to go beyond just thinking.

Right or wrong, an action is better than just a thought. And a fear of a thought, which kills an action, is murder in high degree.

Bridge to a new Stanza

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6.8 Km, 34:42.28, Sunny 2°C, Light wind

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This morning the PBGs confided that my online journal writing is just a bridge to carry me to a new path. They have been hinting this for weeks.

We came to this conclusion by reflecting on where I've been so far with Them. I've run many miles with Them now and They have lead me down many new paths. I am starting Boy's Group for the second year and it has a very different feel to it. It is still exciting, but it doesn't seem to be as risky as it was last year. I will have to work harder to make it fresh again.

The point is, new things and the associated reason for doing them turn into old things. If you continue doing them for a long time, often the reasons you started doing them fall away and are replaced by new reasons. More often than not, the old reasons are replaced simply by a mindless habit.

It takes hard work to keep your workout fresh!

Boy´s Group.

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Non Run Day

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Today was my first Church Boy's Group. My lack of planning meant that most of the church didn't know that today was the first day. Sigh. There were 4 boys (counting my own son). They are keen though.

We played foot ball, and invented a new game that involved lots of running around, up and down the stairs of the church. I think this new game is just a little too dangerous.

Speaking of dangerous, I proposed building a go-cart to the boys. I told them they would have to be on their best behavior and that we would need a few more boys to make a go of it. I think they were excited about the project. I only hope to PBGs I can pull this off.

I think with the help of other men in the congregation, I will have sufficient help to build this little project. The more men and boys I can bring into it, the better. Get those dads involved with their sons, or other people's sons. Kids just don't get enough quality time with their male role models. Men just don't make enough time to be with their young boys.

I hope I can make some men see that it is important to do things with kids. I hope I can fill some of those empty holes in my boys' hearts with excitement and feelings of accomplishment.

Most of all I hope I don't make a fool of myself. Oh, maybe that is just Servant Two tripping me up again.

A Matter of Focus

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6.8 Km, 34:00.2, Sunny 6°C, light wind

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There are two main facets of my life to this point.

1. I don't want to be predictable and I strive to be different from the run of the mill person, and
2. my best yardstick for my achievement is what other people think of me.

These two servants help me stagger my way through lift.

Servant One helps me to be spontaneous, creative, unique, flexible and humorous. But the bumbling fool gets in the way of my sticking to a schedule, planning things out carefully, being repeatable and being consistent. Servant Two helps me be a very be conscientious, sensitive to other peoples feelings, responsive, loving and giving. In short, Two helps me care. Two trips me up too, though. He keeps me from seeing my own value, makes me second guess my own accomplishments, has me feeling insufficient and makes me long to 'prove myself' all the time.

These two servants are part of the central core of me. They influence everything I do and think. They never leave my side. Their positive aspects add light to my life and their negative aspects have a detrimental effect on my sense of well being.

The catch is that I can't let these servants go without losing the better half of me. I can't dismiss the self reproving and retain the hard worker. I would have to let go of the spontaneity along with the erratic planning style.

Do you have servants that are the root of both good things and bad things in your life?

What are they?

Come on, take a chance and tell me about it.

... And the Thought That Didn´t

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6.8 Km, 34:17.3, Partly Cloudy 6°C, 10 km wind

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I have been meaning to write about something that was first related to me by the PBGs a couple of weeks ago. That particular weekend was swamped with other messages and feelings, so this minor Idea was forgotten for a while.

I was complaining to the PBGs that they weren't very good at telling stories. "Life," I said, "is very random and it is hard to find the meaning in a lot of what happens to us on a daily basis." You would think that They, being masters of randomness and coincidence and all, would be somewhat apologetic about this "weakness" in their dominion over the world.

But no. In Their usual dismissive, yet completely serious manner, They said:

"It is you Humans who like to tell stories."

(Actually it may have been "... you, Human, who likes to tell stories." Either one applies, but they are quite different and I am not sure which one is better)

That (those?) statement(s) seem very clear to me, but perhaps I should elaborate a bit for the sake of the reader.

We like to tell ourselves and others stories. We expect life to follow the script. We look for the happily ever after endings.

God, on the other hand, deals with "what is". God doesn't live in Hollywood. God's Plan wasn't commissioned in Hollywood either. Life doesn't start with a problem, move through a climax and end in resolution in 2 1/2 hours. Sure there is some "character development" in Life, but sometimes that seems accidental.

• Life is messy and we hate it for that. We want life to be neat and tidy
• Like a Sit-Com, we want life to have a purpose, message, interesting characters and be over in an hour, tops.
• We demand that the bad guys get punished
• We expect the Hero to get the Girl
• in a really good story, we want to see growth in the principle characters.

In Real life, however, the good guy often dies. Sometimes even prematurely, for no good reason (as far as we can tell, anyway). Often what should happen, doesn't. The resolution refuses to come. The Happy Ending dreamed of remains a heart-felt wish.

(whew, how depressing! Keep reading, it gets less heavy from here)

So my point of view is that it is important for us story tellers (i.e. you and me) to get out there and make the stories come true. Because *WE* have the sense that the stories outcomes are important, *WE* have to be the authors of the actions that *MAKE* those stories come true. The PBGs assist, but *WE* are the story tellers.

Perhaps that isn't as "very clear", as even I thought it was. Who is telling the story? Us? The PBGs? I guess I will have to wait until I read the last chapter.

Stay Strong

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Non-running day, Partly Cloudy, 8°C, 8 km wind

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A 'friend' from New Zealand brought me a new phrase today. "Kia Kaha", which means "Stand Strong" or "Stay Strong" in the Maori language te reo Maori.

I like the encouragement part of this saying. If I can help you be strong and you can help me be strong we will be strong together. That is a tenant worthy of the PBGs or any faith worth its salt! P.S. Mo will especially like the first 'kia kaha' link

The Thought That Got Away

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8.81 Km, 47:44.5, Clear & cold 1°C, 17 km wind

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I had something I was going to write here, but I just couldn't figure out how to express it.

Bus Friend

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I like Frazz. It is a lot like Calvin and Hobbs, but is much gentler. It is also about a runner, like me, which is also good.

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I met one of my bus friends on the bus today and introduced her to my son. She is a teacher's aid in one of the elementary schools in Edmonton. She is also slightly retarded. A special person though. She is always bright and cheery. She talks a lot and asks a tonne of questions. She was quizzing my son on his French vocabulary. A definite PPBG if I ever saw one.